Big Brother
by kitten2010
Summary: Isaac is only four years old when his father beat him and locked him in the freezer then fled. He has nowhere else to go. Sheriff Stilinski feels like it's his duty to give the boy a home. However, Stiles isn't so sure about how to react to his new foster brother. Over time, they learn to be a family and Stiles learns to love being a big brother.
1. Chapter 1

John Stilinski sat in his patrol car, parked in front of the hospital. He was holding a worn out wallet sized photo, staring into the honey colored eyes of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She was dressed in white, happy tears in her eyes. They'd just gotten married and the world was ahead of them. Seven kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. That was the plan. But the cancer didn't care about their plans.

"Oh, Mary," he whispered, his voice a little hoarse. "Mary, I wish you were here. I need you. You always knew what to say. I could use some of your words of wisdom right about now." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Mary, there's a little boy in that hospital. He just turned four."

It had been nearly two years since he'd actually spoken to his wife, but he could still see her so clearly in his mind. He could almost smell her floral perfume. She would be resting her chin in her hands, eyes locked on his from across the dining room table. She'd be smiling, she always was.

"He's been hurt, Mary," John continued. His voice broke a little as he told his wife what had happened. "We got the call last night. The neighbors heard screaming. When we got there, we thought the house was empty, but we searched it anyway. Thank God we did. He was in the basement, Mary. His father had locked him in a freezer. I don't know how long he'd been in there. I don't want to imagine it. He'd been beaten up so badly and the doctors are saying it's not the first time.

"I guess the reason I'm talking to you right now is that…well, you always did see the good in the world. Right now, I don't see it. The boy's father is on the run, his mother refuses to come for him, and his brother was killed in combat last month. Mary, the child has no one. Things like this just really make me miss you. Because you'd know what to say to give me the courage to go in there."

John lingered in the car for a while longer; wishing desperately for an answer that he knew would never come. He tucked the photograph into his wallet and opened the car door. Beacon Hills General Hospital was fairly quiet, as always. He paused to look at the clock hanging above the front desk. He had about an hour until it was time to pick his son up from school. He headed down the hallway, passing a familiar face on the way.

"Sheriff Stilinski, how are you?" the nurse greeted with a smile.

"Good afternoon, Melissa," John replied.

Melissa McCall was a good friend of the family. She'd been there for John after Mary died, making sure there was always food in the house. Her son, Scott, was Stiles' best friend. The boys were like brothers. John smiled for the first time that day and he couldn't help but feel like somehow Mary had something to do with this. He'd wanted to see the good in the world, and there was a glimpse of it.

"Are you heading up to see the Lahey kid?" she asked, keeping her voice low even though there was no one else around.

John nodded. "How has he been?"

"It was a rough night," she said solemnly. "John, I've never heard a kid scream like that." She looked like she was about to cry. She wouldn't be the only one to have shed tears over Isaac Lahey. "Please tell me you're coming with good news."

John couldn't comment, but he knew the look on his face was enough. "We're doing all we can."

She shook her head. "I should go, but call me later. Scott's been begging to have Stiles sleep over and I finally caved so we need to agree on a day."

John nodded and resumed his trek down the hallway, stopping in front of the fourth door on the right. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Seeing Isaac on the bed made John want to turn around and leave. He looked so small and helpless. He wore a child-sized oxygen mask that was still much too big for him. Pillows were piled up behind him, giving him support as he watched cartoons on the TV. His face was bruised and his blue eyes looked much too old to be on the face of someone so small.

The social worker looked up from her phone and noticed John. She stood and walked to the doorway, looking sad and serious. "Hello, Sheriff," she greeted tersely.

John glanced at Isaac, who was still watching the TV intently. "Nothing has changed on our end. I'm just coming to check on him."

"He had a hard night, but he's been doing alright today. He still hasn't spoken."

"Has there been any luck finding relatives to take him in?"

She shook her head forlornly, "Unfortunately it appears that his mother is his last living family member and she's refused."

The sheriff glanced at Isaac again. The boy was staring at the TV, but by the way his lip was trembling it was clear he was listening in. John's heart ached with sympathy. "There's a place for him, though, right?"

"There aren't many licensed foster homes in the area with space available." She consulted her phone for a moment. Her eyes darted to John's chest, then back to her phone. "John Stilinski?"

"Yes," John replied hesitantly. He couldn't remember telling the social worker his first name.

"You're on the list," she said.

John opened his mouth but couldn't formulate a response. He and Mary had started the process to become licensed when Stiles was about ten. They'd been trying for years to have another baby, but couldn't due to what the doctor's called unexplained secondary infertility. John had always believed that they hadn't completed the final steps of the process because of Mary's diagnosis. "Are you sure?" he finally managed to say.

She nodded. "You're the only one in Beacon Hills. Our closest other options would be all the way in Bakersfield."

John didn't have to close his eyes to imagine the way Mary would have reacted. "I'll have to assign his case to someone else."

"That's a yes?"

John nodded. "That's definitely a yes."

:::::::::::

"Have a good weekend, Lydia…who is ignoring me again," Stiles called hopelessly after the strawberry blonde beauty as she flounced past him.

Scott laughed. "Man, when are you gonna give it up."

"Things are gonna be different," Stiles said. "We're in high school now!"

"We've been in high school for a month now, nothing's changed."

"But next week are lacrosse tryouts! I've been practicing all summer." Stiles slung his arm around Scott. "We're gonna make first line, I know it."

"You're insane," Scott laughed.

Stiles spotted his dad's patrol car and started to run toward it. He turned back to Scott and shouted, "You'll see!" before he opened the door and piled into the passenger seat. "Hey, Dad," he said breathlessly, still smiling.

"How was your day, Stiles?"

"Oh, same as always. Harris assigned us an insane amount of homework. I'm seriously considering having him investigated for breaking child labor laws."

"Do you think you'd have enough time to help me clean out the second bedroom?"

All joking was gone in an instant. "Why?" Stiles asked urgently. "That was Mom's painting studio. We can't get rid of her stuff!"

"We're not," his father reassured him. "We're just going to store it in the attic."

Stiles was indignant. "You want to shove her stuff in the _attic_! Dad, come on!"

"Stiles…"

"No, Dad. This is crazy. Why do you want to do this?" Stiles was shaking at the thought of destroying the last place he could go to feel close to his Mom.

"Before she passed away, your mom and I became licensed foster parents. She wanted to help kids. There's a little boy named Isaac that really needs a home right now. We're going to give that to him, but he'll need a room."

Stiles can't think of anything to say so he's silent for the rest of the ride home. They both got out of the car and went inside.

"I'd really appreciate your help, Stiles."

"I need to do my homework."

::::::::::::

Stiles felt guilty for giving his dad the cold shoulder for the past two days, but the thought of his mother's unfinished paintings collecting dust in the attic renews his anger. It just doesn't seem fair. His dad keeps trying to talk to him, but Stiles doesn't feel like listening.

The doorbell rang and the sheriff practically sprinted to answer it. Stiles lingered behind him, a bit curious in spite of himself. At first, Stiles couldn't see the kid, but when they all came in he finally got a good look.

Isaac looked small for his age, not that Stiles really knew for sure. His hair was in a fluff of brownish-blond curls and he was looking up at Stiles with nervous blue eyes. What really got to Stiles were all the bruises. Stiles wanted to be sick at the thought of someone bruising a four year old like that on purpose.

"Well, Isaac, let's get you settled into your new room," the sheriff said.

The social worker gave Isaac a nudge and they headed down the hallway. Stiles really didn't want to follow. He didn't want to have to see the bare walls and notice that the lingering floral smell was gone. He followed anyway.

The social worker was carrying a trash bag and when they got to Isaac's room, she emptied it onto the bed. Clothes and a few toys fell out. Stiles swallowed, realizing that probably everything Isaac owned had been in that trash bag.

Stiles could no longer keep up his disgruntled teenager façade. He had the overwhelming urge to hug his dad, but he held back. They were moving again, the social worker was getting ready to leave and listing off instructions to Stiles' dad. Isaac still hadn't said anything and Stiles started to wonder what the boy thought of all this. Stiles can't imagine being dropped off at a stranger's home.

Once the social worker was gone, both Stilinskis watched Isaac closely for a few moments. Isaac looked scared and confused, but he didn't cry so they took it as a good sign.

"Are you hungry, Isaac?" the sheriff asked. There was no reply so he added, "I can make spaghetti. Would you like that?" Isaac still didn't say anything.

Stiles and his dad exchanged a look. Neither of them knew how to handle this. After a while, the sheriff went to the kitchen and started cooking dinner. Stiles felt awkward just standing there so he went to his room. He could hear Isaac's soft footsteps behind him and out of the corner of his eye he saw the little boy go into his own room.

Stiles didn't have any homework left to do, so he just sat in his desk chair and leaned back. It didn't take long for him to get curious about what Isaac was doing. He tiptoed his way out into the hallway and peered through the doorway.

Isaac was sitting on the floor. He'd pulled a teddy bear from the pile on the bed and he had his arms wrapped around it. "Don't be scared, Percy," he whispered to the raggedy stuffed animal.

"What ya got there?" Stiles asked, trying not to startle Isaac but failing.

Isaac's eyes were wide and looked at Stiles like he wasn't quite sure if he should run or just stay still and hope to disappear. Stiles really didn't want to give the kid a heart attack, so he slowly walked into the room and crouched down on the floor so that he was close to eye level with Isaac, but stayed far enough away that Isaac didn't feel threatened.

"Is that your bear?" Stiles asked. Dumb question, but he wasn't sure what else to do. "I used to have one of those too." Stiles left out the fact that his teddy bear was actually still in his bed, hidden under some pillows.

Isaac looked a little less wary of Stiles. Even though the teenager had no idea what he was doing, he rolled with it. "Is your bear scared?" Stiles asked.

Isaac quickly nodded.

"Well…what's your bear's name?"

"Percy," Isaac whispered.

"Alright. Well, Percy," Stiles addressed the bear even though he felt ridiculous doing so, "it's OK to be scared, but nothing's going to hurt you here. My dad is really nice and so am I."

:::::::::::::

John's heart swelled with pride as he listened to Stiles interact with Isaac. It also ached a little bit. He wished that Mary could see their son now and he wished that they'd been able to give Stiles a little brother or sister. He tapped on the door frame and announced, "Dinner's ready."

The boys followed him to the dining room and sat down at the table. John smiled at the adorableness when Isaac had trouble reaching over the table. The problem was quickly remedied by a stack of old phone books.

Stiles had already dug into his food and John was about to go for his, when he glanced over at Isaac's plate and realized he'd forgotten to cut up the noodles. Without thinking, he reached over with his fork to fix it before Isaac made a mess. That turned out to be a mistake.

Isaac let out a heartbreaking yelp and jerked back as far as he could. John flushed with guilt. "Isaac, it's alright. I'm just cutting up your food for you. I used to do it for my son too."

Isaac was still shaking. John quickly chopped the noodles into smaller pieces and moved away to give Isaac his space.

"It's good, I promise," Stiles encouraged.

They finished the meal in silence. Isaac had stayed clean for the most part, but there were still smudges of red sauce on his cheeks. John was a bit nervous, especially after his earlier slip up, but he knew that part of the healing process was showing Isaac that there were adults he could trust.

"Stiles, do you mind clearing the table?" John asked.

"Sure," Stiles responded.

John was glad that Stiles seemed to have gotten over his anger at repurposing the extra bedroom. He saw compassion in his son's eyes and he knew that that was completely Mary's doing. Stiles stood up and carried away his plate.

"Isaac," John said. "I think we need to clean you up. Let's go get your clothes."

John offered his hand to Isaac, but the boy climbed down from his chair on his own. John went to Isaac's room and sifted through the pile on the bed. Most of the clothes were worn out and John made a mental note to go shopping for Isaac. He found a matching set of pajamas and a pair of underwear and tucked them under his arm.

"Alright, bath time," he said.

For reasons that John didn't want to think about, Isaac looked absolutely terrified, but the boy followed him anyway. John ran the bath water and Isaac stood silently near the door. John turned toward Isaac. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said. He held out his hand, but Isaac didn't take it. The boy quickly shed his clothes and went toward the bathtub. John helped Isaac get in and winced at the scrapes and bruises, all at different stages of healing.

"Is the water OK?" John asked.

Isaac nodded and hugged his knees to his chest. John tried his best not to make Isaac flinch as he reached for the shampoo, but of course he failed.

"It's alright," John said, trying his best to sound soothing. Mary was always so much better with this sort of stuff. John was the fun parent, always able to make Stiles laugh, but Mary was the one that wiped away tears and chased away fears.

It was slow going, but John managed to get Isaac bathed without causing too much trauma. Isaac seemed relieved when he was dressed in his pajamas and John was able to help Isaac comb his hair and brush his teeth without any fearful reactions. John returned to Isaac's room and started to put away his clothes. Isaac played with his teddy bear quietly on the other side of the room.

John wasn't sure what to do. Stiles had been so different. He remembered his son at that age was like a blender set on high without a lid, constant chaos and excitement. Isaac was just so quiet and scared. John hoped that somehow that would change and that justice would be served. Though he wasn't on the case, John had stayed updated and he knew that the police now suspected that Sam Lahey had fled California.

When everything was put away, John turned to see that Isaac was just about ready to fall asleep right where he sat. "You ready for bed, champ?"

Isaac nodded sleepily and climbed up into the bed.

"Hey, I brought you something," Stiles said cheerfully from the doorway.

John easily recognized the book in his hand. After all, Stiles had been so in love with Where the Wild Things Are that John probably could have recited it from memory. However, Stiles didn't hand the book over. Instead, he sat at the foot of the bed and read the story to Isaac.

:::::::::::

"I'm proud of you, son," John said as soon as Stiles closed the door quietly behind him.

"Thanks, Dad," Stiles said. "I'm sorry for how I was before."

"It's alright," John replied.

"I was just scared you wanted to forget her."

"You know I could never do that."

Stiles sighed. "I remember she used to read that story to me at least six times a day."

John laughed. "Yeah and then I'd read it to you twice before you went to bed."

"Dad, Isaac was really hurt, wasn't he?"

John nodded solemnly. "Afraid so."

John was taken by surprise when Stiles hugged him tightly. "Dad, I love you."

::::::::::::

That night, Isaac dreamed of Wild Things. It was a nice dream at first. But then, things changed and Isaac was in a box. He scratched and scratched, but he didn't have claws. He couldn't get out.

::::::::::::

John rushed into the hallway when he heard Isaac cry out and Stiles was close behind him. They burst into Isaac's room and found that the child was still thrashing around in his sleep. John wrapped his arms around the boy and spoke gently to him. "It's over," he said. "It's alright now."

Stiles watched nervously at first, looking more and more concerned when Isaac just continued to shake and cry instead of waking up. Stiles could remember all too clearly the panic attacks he'd had and if Isaac was going through anything like that, then Stiles felt sorry for him. Finally Isaac's eyes popped open and he looked around the room wildly.

"It's alright now," the sheriff reassured.

Gradually, Isaac's tears slowed to a stop. Stiles grabbed the teddy bear from where it had fallen on the floor and handed it to the sniffling child. They all sat there in silence until Isaac fell asleep once again.

**Please note that for this fic, I'll be taking requests. So if there's anything you'd like to see, let me know and I just might use it (:**

**Be kind, review.**


	2. Chapter 2

John wasn't expecting a phone call. He'd taken some personal time off and usually the only calls he got were from work. He answered the phone, hoping it wasn't something about Stiles. "Sheriff Stilinski," he said.

"Hey, John. This is Melissa McCall…giving you a call," she said, with a nervous laugh. "Anyway, I was just calling to see if the boys were still going to spend the night here."

"I think they decided to move it over here," John replied. "It's just easier on us. Isaac is still pretty nervous around me, it would just be helpful to have Stiles around."

"Oh, yeah, that's fine," Melissa said. "I'll see you later then."

"Alright, take care."

John returned his phone to his pocket and figured that now was a good time to get up from the paperwork at his desk and go check on Isaac. He'd left the boy contentedly coloring at the dining room table, but that's not where he found him. John looked around and walked into the kitchen at precisely the wrong moment. "Isaac?"

Isaac had decided to refill his own glass of juice. He'd somehow succeeded at getting the heavy jug out of the refrigerator and had just started to pour when he lost control and spilled everything on the ground. He looked up in horror at John and quickly ran and tried to wedge himself in the space between the wall and the refrigerator.

John approached slowly, stepping over the puddle. "Isaac?" he said, careful to keep his voice soft. "Isaac, come here." At this point, the child was sobbing like the world was going to end. John knelt down in order to be at eye level with him and waited for him to calm down a bit. "Isaac, what were you doing?"

"I-I wanted juice," Isaac whispered between shaky breaths.

"You could have asked," John said.

"I'm not s-supposed to b-b-bother you," Isaac replied, his voice so soft John could barely hear him. "It's bad to interrupt grown-ups."

"Who told you that?" John asked, but he already knew the answer.

"My dad," Isaac said.

John winced in sympathy. "It's alright, Isaac. You can ask when you want something."

Isaac nodded, still hanging his head in shame. He sniffed and a tear fell onto the floor. John slowly reached out and put his hand on Isaac's shoulder. Isaac tensed in fear at first, but slowly relaxed.

"Help me clean this up and then I'll get you something to drink," John said. "Alright?"

John handed Isaac a towel and watched the boy carefully dab at the mess, eager to please by cleaning up, but still scared of letting his guard down. Once the spill was completely mopped up, John poured Isaac a glass of milk and returned him to the table to color. "I need to go finish my work, but remember you can get me if you need anything," John said.

He went back to his office and smiled to himself. He liked to think that if he kept doing things like that, then maybe he would earn Isaac's trust.

:::::::::::

Melissa felt like a major loser. She was almost disappointed that the boys had decided to have their sleepover at the Stilinski house at the last minute. She'd taken the night off work in order to supervise and now that she was going to have the house to herself, she had nothing but a DVR full of unwatched shows and a pantry full of snacks to remind her of how utterly single she was.

She drove Scott to the Stilinski residence and instead of just dropping him off at the curb she got out and went to the door with him. Melissa was hoping to get an update on Isaac Lahey. She'd been working as a nurse for several years and the only time she'd ever seen a kid that beat up was after a car wreck.

"Be sure to mind your manners," she reminded Scott quickly.

"I know, Mom."

"I know you know," she responded. "I'm just reminding you. Be sure you use your inhaler before bed. And brush your teeth. And wear clean underwear."

"Mom," Scott sighed with a roll of his eyes.

Sheriff Stilinski opened the door and Scott rushed inside to escape his mother's lame jokes. "Let me know if he gives you any trouble," she said.

"You know he never does," the sheriff responded.

"How's Isaac?" she asked.

"He's adjusting. I think he'll be alright once he realizes that not everyone is going to attack him."

"I'm glad he's staying with you. You're a great dad." Melissa wondered too late if the comment was a bit awkward.

"Well, thanks, Melissa. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

Melissa stood on her tiptoes and waved at Scott. Her son smiled and waved back at her and she turned to leave. She sighed and tried to convince herself that watching six episodes of Grey's Anatomy was a perfectly acceptable way to spend the night.

:::::::::::

Scott and Stiles were completely absorbed in their video games. About an hour into it, they both noticed there was a shy visitor at the door. Isaac was peeking at them from the hallway, but darted away every time they turned around and looked at him.

"Do you think he wants to play?" Scott asked.

"I dunno. Isn't he too young for this?"

Scott shrugged. "I don't think so."

"We'll ask him next time he pokes around."

"Do you like having a brother?" Scott asked. "What's it like?"

Stiles thought about it. It was really too soon to tell. He only had a few experiences to go off of. "Well, I guess it's not so bad. He's freakishly quiet so half the time I forget he's here."

"I think it'd be cool to have a brother. You can teach him everything."

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, we can show him how to play lacrosse and make sure he reads the best comic books."

::::::::::

John smiled as he passed through the living room. It was getting late and he wasn't as young as he used to be. He was going to have a bit of whiskey and head to bed, but the boys were still wide awake. Scott and Stiles were sprawled on the floor, a bowl of popcorn between them. Isaac was perched on the couch, mesmerized by the movie. It was a good sight to see.

John nursed his whiskey as he stepped into his bedroom and got ready for bed. He went through the same routine every night. He finished his whiskey and read a few chapters from his book before brushing his teeth and winding up his alarm for the next morning. John wasn't one for praying, but there was one person he talked to every night.

"Mary, I'm doing the best I can here. I think things are going well. Stiles is great with Isaac. I wish you could see it. They're going to be really close. I'm just hoping Isaac gets to stay here for a while. I don't know what's going to happen to him, but you know I'm going to try my best to adopt him. He's a good kid. You would love him. Hell, he'd love you."

::::::::::

Isaac wondered if he was making a mistake. He just wanted a glass of water. Scott and Stiles were already asleep and the sheriff had said to ask if he wanted something. He just wasn't sure if it was OK. The door was open, but Isaac wasn't sure if he could go in because it sounded like the sheriff was talking to someone. Isaac was about to turn around and leave when the sheriff noticed him.

"Isaac, are you alright?" the sheriff asked.

Isaac thought about running, but he really wanted some water. He wondered who the sheriff had been talking to. He was nervous about answering the sheriff's question and when he did the wrong thing came out. "Who were you talking to?"

The sheriff looked really sad and Isaac wasn't sure why. "Oh, no one."

Isaac tilted his head to the side. He'd never understand grown-ups. "I'm thirsty," he said. "Can I have water?"

The sheriff smiled at him and nodded. "Sure, Isaac."

::::::::::

It was a nice day outside and the boys had convinced the sheriff to drive them out to the lacrosse field. Scott and Stiles wanted all the practice they could get before tryouts, which were approaching quickly. However, they surprised the sheriff by handing Isaac a lacrosse stick. He looked awkward holding it, given it was almost as tall as him, but the boys spent the afternoon lobbing balls gently toward Isaac and making a big deal about it when he managed to catch one.

The day was perfect, made more so when Scott's mom met them there with pizza. John had never seen Isaac smile so much. He ate and laughed and then ran around the field with Scott and Stiles.

"That's so great to see," Melissa commented.

John nodded in agreement. "It's good to see him be a kid."

"They're good with him," she said. "It's really sweet."

There was a moment of silence that was quickly filled by Isaac's laughter when he managed to catch the ball. He looked to John and Melissa and they cheered enthusiastically for his benefit and he swelled with pride.

"Has anything changed with his case?" Melissa asked.

"Technically, I'm not on the case. But…they think his dad is in Oregon, heading toward Canada."

"What about his mom? Is she going to come for him?"

John shrugged. "It doesn't look that way."

"Poor kid," Melissa sighed.

John shook his head. "If she doesn't want him, then he doesn't need her."

"Are you going to adopt him?"

"I'm going to try."

Melissa smiled and it struck John that she really was a very attractive woman, especially when she smiled like that. "That's great. Stiles will love that."

John nodded. "Yeah, it was a bit rocky at first, but he took to Isaac fast."

"What happened?"

"Well, Isaac's room used to be where Mary did all her painting. It hadn't really been touched since she passed away."

Melissa nodded in understanding. "Oh, I know how that goes. After Scott's dad left, he had a total meltdown when I started getting rid of things."

"Yeah," John said. "I never expected to have to deal with that. I'm just glad Stiles adjusted because I had absolutely no idea about what to do."

Melissa sighed. "Yeah, it's one of those things. You never think about it happening to you."

"We seem to be doing alright."


	3. Chapter 3

The stadium was packed. Even though it was only a scrimmage game, this was the first time Beacon Hills would get a look at this year's lacrosse team and it felt like the entire town was there. The sheriff had arrived early try to stake out a seat in the bleachers, but it was standing room only.

John held on to Isaac's hand, careful not to squeeze too tightly. In the few weeks that Isaac had been with them, his physical wounds had healed but the child still had plenty of mental scars to deal with. John would have preferred to hire a babysitter and leave Isaac at home, but Isaac seemed pretty set on seeing Stiles and Scott play.

John felt a tug at his sleeve and crouched down in order to hear Isaac's voice. "I can't see," he said.

"Do you want me to pick you up?" John asked. Isaac nodded and John was actually quite surprised. Isaac was very particular about that sort of thing. John knew not to make a big deal of it and did his best not to smile like an idiot when Isaac's little arms wrapped around his neck. John remembered when Stiles was that small, how he'd just put his arms up in the air with the confidence that his dad would be there to pick him up. John hoped that someday Isaac would have the same sureness.

The loudspeaker crackled and the announcer's voice came on, reading the same thing he read every year about not smoking or drinking on the premises, no glass bottles or weapons, etc. Finally, the national anthem played and the team came onto the field.

John quickly spotted Stiles in the crowd and shifted to get a better view. The announcer read out the roster and the crowd cheered for every team member. When Scott's name was read, John heard a loud, enthusiastic shout that could've only been Melissa. It sounded like she wasn't too far away, so John put a protective arm around Isaac and navigated his way through the crowd to find her. Pausing to cheer when Stiles' name was called.

Finally, he spotted Melissa, who had been smart enough to bring a lawn chair with her. "Hey, John," she said with a smile. "I've got you covered." Before he could tell her not to worry about it, Melissa was unfolding a second canvas chair.

John set Isaac on the ground between the chairs and sat down. "Good to see you," John said. "I thought you had to work."

Melissa shook her head. "No, I got someone to cover. I spend way too much time in that place." She laughed. "What about you? Are you back at work?"

"I'm on fewer shifts than usual. Trying to stick to nights so that I can be around for the boys during the day."

The game had started and John glanced at the bench, waving to Stiles with a smile on his face. This would probably be the only time that Stiles would get to play and that was just because the coach had been forced into letting everyone get a chance on the field.

Isaac crawled into John's lap, much to the surprise of the two adults who could only look at each other with wide eyes and amazed smiles. "Is Scott gonna play?" Isaac asked. "I wanna see him."

"He might get to," Melissa answered. "Did you have fun playing video games with Scott and Stiles yesterday?"

Isaac nodded. "I got to push the buttons."

"That's great," Melissa said, watching him with a sad smile on her face.

Isaac turned to look at John and nervously managed to say, "I'm hungry."

John looked toward the concession stand. The line was massive. Luckily, Melissa reached into her purse and pulled out a chewy granola bar. "It's a mom thing," she said with a wink.

John nodded, remembering how Mary had been the same way. She always seemed to have exactly what they needed at the time.

The game progressed and John was pretty impressed with this year's team. Stiles still hadn't gotten a chance to play, but Scott had just gotten off the bench and Melissa was cheering so loudly that John was sure he could see Scott blushing. Isaac was perched on John's knees, watching the game intensely even though John was sure Isaac had no idea what was happening.

John leaned back and enjoyed the moment. It had been a long time since he'd been this content. Stiles was finally on the field. He looked nervous and awkward, but John was still so proud of him. However, John's heart dropped when he saw Stiles tackled roughly by Jackson Whittemore. John's chest constricted and his mind raced with worry. He was poised to jump out of his chair and run onto the field when Stiles managed to get onto his feet. John still wanted to race over to his son, but he knew that it probably hadn't been as bad as it looked.

When he was finally thinking straight again, John realized that he was holding Melissa's hand. They looked at each other with embarrassed confusion, neither of them sure who had been the one to start it. Melissa looked mortified as she pulled her hand away. "Sorry," she said.

John didn't reply, he just smiled nervously, hoping that the awkwardness would dissipate soon. The rest of the game went on without incident. At some point, Isaac had fallen asleep and John was back to being deliriously happy. The game ended, but John stayed seated, not wanting to wake the sleeping child. Isaac still had nightmares practically every night and John worried that the child wasn't getting enough sleep.

Scott and Stiles ran over to their parents, slightly damp from the showers. "Did you see that?" Stiles asked, hands waving wildly as he continued speaking a mile a minute. "Jackson nearly killed me. I mean, I know I'm not hurt physically but I have half a mind to sue him for emotional distress."

"You did great, Stiles," John said. "You too, Scott. I'm proud of you boys."

They parted ways and started to head home. Isaac slept for the entirety of the car ride while Stiles went on and on about how he was hoping to get to play in the official season opener and how he'd been practicing hard. He moved on to talking about a girl at school having a seizure in class and then rapidly changed the subject to the horrendous quality of the school lunches. John just smiled and shook his head.

"Alright, son," John said once they were pulling into the driveway. "I know you're probably not tired but I'm old and headed to bed. You can stay up if you want to, but try to be reasonable."

Stiles raced into the house to start playing whatever video game he was caught up in at the moment. John watched him go and then turned to look at Isaac, still sound asleep in the backseat. John got out and carefully lifted Isaac out of the car without waking him. He carried the child inside and right as he was about to lay the child down in his bed, Isaac's eyes fluttered open.

Isaac looked completely confused and his lip started to tremble the slightest bit. "It's alright," John said softly. "You fell asleep at the game. We're home now."

Isaac nodded and curled up on the mattress. John covered him with a blanket and started looking around. He could have sworn he'd seen the teddy bear somewhere in the room. While he was looking, Isaac asked, "Do I have a mom?"

John raised an eyebrow, wondering where in the world Isaac had come up with that question. John didn't really know how to answer. Was he supposed to tell a four-year-old child that his mother couldn't be bothered to raise him? "Yeah, kiddo, you do. She's somewhere else right now."

"Where's Stiles' mom?" Isaac asked, yawning.

John finally found the teddy bear under the bed and handed it to Isaac. "Stiles' mom was very sick."

"Is she dead?"

John cringed. It just didn't seem right for someone so young to know what death was. "Yes."

"My brother's dead," Isaac stated with a small, sad sigh.

John still had no idea how to respond to any of this, but he was trying. "Do you miss him?"

Isaac nodded. "He was nice to me. He wasn't mad at me."

"Why would he be mad?" John sat down on the floor and waited for an answer.

"I'm a mistake." Isaac yawned and rubbed his eyes.

John winced. "You're not a mistake."

"Yeah, but I am. My dad said so."

John was hesitant, but finally reached up and ran his fingers through Isaac's curly hair. "Well, I don't think you are."

Isaac didn't respond. He yawned again and started to drift off to sleep. John sat with him for a long time before slowly rising to his feet and heading down the hall to his bedroom. He lingered outside of Stiles door. The door was slightly ajar and John could see that Stiles was already in bed. He smiled and whispered, "I love you."

As far as John was concerned, Isaac was his just as much as Stiles was. It would take time, but he was going to make sure that Isaac learned that he wasn't a mistake and that he didn't have to be afraid.

:::::::::::::

It was the first long weekend of the school year and it was tradition for the Stilinskis and the McCalls to head out for one last day at the beach before the weather got too cold. It was roughly a two hour drive and they always left early in the morning and stayed until the sun went down.

As soon as they got there Scott and Stiles were eager to head out to the water, groaning as Melissa insisted that they had to put on sunscreen. The minute they had it applied, they raced each other to the ocean. John and Melissa started unloading all the beach gear that Melissa insisted on bringing. Isaac just lingered by the car, not sure of what to do. He trailed after the adults and stared out at the ocean as they set up the chairs and umbrellas and laid out the towels.

"What's wrong, Isaac?" Melissa asked.

"That's lots of water," Isaac said.

"It's the ocean," Melissa replied.

Isaac shook his head. "I don't know if I like the ocean."

"Why not?"

Isaac looked up at John and then Melissa. "I might drown."

John's heart sank. He wondered what had happened to Isaac that made drowning a fear, weather it had been because of an accident or something worse. While he was lost in thought, Melissa handled the situation.

"Why don't we just go close to the water? You can let the waves touch your toes. I'll even go with you."

Isaac looked at John. "You come too?"

John nodded and they all kicked off their shoes. Isaac grabbed John and Melissa by the hand and they walked out the water, stopping right at the shoreline. The waves lapped at Isaac's bare feet and suddenly he started grinning. Inch by inch, they went further into the water until the water was at Isaac's knees. A wave made him stumble backwards, but before he could fall, John lifted him up.

Scott and Stiles ran over to them in a flurry of splashes and shouts. They coaxed Isaac away from the adults, taking him out slightly further in the water. They taught Isaac how to let himself float just as the wave was coming so that he could ride with it for a few seconds before they caught him. John lingered in the water until it became clear that the boys could handle taking care of Isaac.

When John returned to the chairs, Melissa had already settled herself in for a day of tanning. She was reading a magazine and had taken a soda out of the cooler. "They sound like they're having fun," she commented as John sat down.

He nodded. "I think they are."

John started reading the novel he'd brought with him, but he didn't get very far because every few lines he had the compulsion to glance up and make sure that the boys were still doing alright. The beach was starting to fill up with others taking advantage of the long weekend. John was relieved when the boys came out of the water for lunch.

Scott and Stiles had been good about watching over Isaac all morning but John could tell they were eager to show off for the group of girls further out in the water, so John took over with Isaac. He held the child's hand and showed him sea shells and sand dollars. Occasionally they would turn to wave to Melissa.

All too quickly, the sun was setting and their day was reaching an end. The only thing left to do was eat at their favorite hole in the wall seafood place. They were sandy, slightly sunburned, and still smelled like the ocean as they followed the hostess to their table.

While they waited for their food, Scott and Stiles talked about lacrosse and Isaac watched them like he was hanging on to every word. Melissa observed them with a happy look on her face. John found himself smiling as well until someone passing by the window caught his eye. He could have sworn it was Sam Lahey. Without a word, John got up from the table and ran outside, scanning the sidewalk. There was a crowd of tourists walking and John strained his neck to see above them.

He went back inside, convinced that he must have just been seeing things. Ever since the beginning, John had had a bad feeling that they hadn't seen the last of Isaac's father and each day that passed without an arrest made John's anxiety just a little bit worse.

They enjoyed the rest of their meal without interruption. John volunteered to drive back and soon the car was completely silent. The boys were all asleep and Melissa looked like she was ready to nod off as well. John pushed his worries to the back of his mind and enjoyed the drive.

The day trip to the beach had been something Mary started when Scott and Stiles were around eight. Originally, it had just been to get Melissa's mind off of her divorce and give Scott some time to just be a kid. It had been such a success that Mary had insisted on a repeat the next year. The only year that they'd cancelled the trip was the year that Mary had been too sick to go. She'd insisted they go without her, but it didn't feel right. However, after Mary passed away, John and Stiles had been so in need of something to pull them out of their grief if only for a day that Melissa insisted on going.

John looked in the rearview mirror. Stiles had his face pressed against the window. Scott had his head against the seat and it moved back and forth ever so slightly with the motion of the car. Isaac was in his booster seat, chin pressed against his chest with a sand dollar still gripped tightly in his hand. It was a happy sight. John hoped that Isaac would be around for many more Stilinski-McCall beach trips.

:::::::::::::

They slept in the next morning and it was nearly noon before they had all finally rolled out of bed. None of them really felt like doing anything. It was clearly a day for movies and laziness.

John was surprised when he heard the doorbell ring. He went to answer it, still in sweatpants and a T-shirt.

"Hello, Sheriff Stilinski," the man at the door said. He was wearing a suit and flashed an FBI badge.

"What can I help you with?" he asked.

"I'm just here to ask a few questions."

John was puzzled, but he invited the agent in anyway. They sat at the dining room table.

"Has Samuel Lahey attempted to contact you at all?" the agent asked.

John shook his head. "No. Is he in the area again?"

"We haven't been able to confirm it, but there was a possible sighting a few days ago and we like to be thorough."

John felt like he'd swallowed a brick. "I can't be sure, but I may have seen him yesterday."

John felt robotic as he answered the agent's questions about when and where he'd possibly seen Sam Lahey. The agent left, making vague comments about law enforcement trying their best. The whole thing made John nervous. There was nothing confirmed so there was no way to know if there was actually any danger. Besides, John knew if there really was a threat to Isaac's safety then the Beacon Hills sheriff department would be on it.

John did his best to act normal as he returned to the living room. Eventually, he relaxed a bit and enjoyed the movie marathon and pizza. That night, after the boys were in bed, John made sure all the windows and doors were locked. He checked the pistol he kept by his bed. Deep down, he knew there was probably nothing to worry about, but he still couldn't stand the thought of Isaac being in any danger.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles was buzzing around the kitchen. He had been an absolute nervous wreck from the minute he'd gotten home. "Dad!" he shouted. "Where's the Diet Coke?"

"You know I don't buy any of that diet crap. Besides, you don't even drink it," John responded.

"But, Dad, that's what Lydia drinks!" Stiles lamented like it was the end of the world.

John smiled and shook his head. "I think she'll be fine with regular Coke."

Stiles groaned dramatically and collapsed against the refrigerator. Isaac started giggling and Stiles glared at him, but there was no real malice in it. "Isaac, you can't bother us. This is really important. Lydia will be here any minute."

"I thought this was a group project," John teased.

"Yeah, and the rest of them, whatever. But Lydia will be here, in my house. You guys can't be embarrassing. Please, I'm begging you."

The doorbell rang and Stiles rushed around in a panic. He grabbed the bowl of chips and the plate of Bagel Bites and set them on the table before running to the door. However, it turned out to be a false alarm because the girl at the door was not Stiles' crush. "Oh, hey, Erica," Stiles greeted.

"Hi," Erica replied nervously and stepped inside. She was carrying bags full of art supplies and she started to spread them out on the table.

Isaac climbed up into one of the chairs, standing on it in order to see everything. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the colorful jars.

Erica gave him one of the containers. "It's paint. We're going to use it for our project."

Isaac's blue eyes were wide and his face lit up. "What's it do?" he asked.

Erica looked slightly taken aback but started to explain, "Well, you take on of these paintbrushes and you dip it in then you brush it on whatever you want to paint." She used the dry paintbrush to gently tickle the end of Isaac's nose. He giggled and she smiled kindly at him.

Scott arrived shortly after Erica, not bothering with knocking or ringing the doorbell. He helped himself to a soda before sitting down at the table. "Hey, buddy," he said to Isaac.

Isaac was suddenly shy and sat down in his chair, blushing and folding his hands together. "Hi, Scott," he said.

The doorbell rang and the last of their group arrived. Stiles opened the door with a wide grin, but soon his demeanor changed when he realized that Jackson was standing behind Lydia. The two of them came inside, the looks on their faces clearly saying that they couldn't believe they had to spend their evening with the present company.

The sheriff lingered until he saw that the kids were settled in and then he drifted off to his office. Stiles watched Lydia open her textbook and start scribbling in her notebook. He worked up the courage to ask her if she wanted anything, but he was ignored.

Isaac innocently interjected. "Stiles, can I have a pizza?"

Stiles smiled. He was glad at least one member of the group hadn't noticed Lydia's millionth rejection of anything Stiles had to offer. He checked the temperature and then put a few on a plate for Isaac. He caught Erica smiling at him, but she quickly looked away when their eyes met.

"I guess we should get started," Stiles said.

They started on their project, each of them taking a paintbrush and a Styrofoam ball to paint. Isaac was watching wistfully, obviously jealous that the older kids got to paint so Stiles pulled Isaac into his lap and held the child's tiny hand to guide him, letting him finish the part Stiles was working on. It slowed them down, but Isaac was having fun and that's all Stiles really cared about. He ignored Jackson's impatient huffing and puffing and Lydia's constant reminders that they needed to finish at some point.

The comfortable silence of the night was shattered when Erica started to have a seizure. They crowded around her and Stiles shouted for his dad. John rushed in, turning Erica on to her side and doing his best to keep her from injuring herself or anyone else as the seizure ran its course. Minutes ticked by agonizingly slow as they waited for her to resurface.

Once she had, the sheriff called her parents to come pick her up. She had moved to sit alone in the living room. It was obvious she was deeply embarrassed and John quickly followed after her to make sure she was alright. The rest of the group just stared at each other.

"We can do the rest of it at school," Stiles suggested. "I can finish the painting and bring it with me."

Jackson and Lydia jumped on the chance to escape and soon they were out the door, but Scott stayed behind. "That was scary, huh, Isaac?" Scott asked.

Isaac nodded and wiped at his eyes. "I don't like that," he said. "Why'd she do that?"

"She can't help it," Stiles explained. "You know how sometimes you have bad dreams?" Isaac nodded and Stiles continued. "It's kind of like that. Erica has seizures sometimes even though she doesn't want to, just like you have bad dreams."

Understanding dawned on the four-year-old and he raced away. The teenagers just shrugged at each other.

"I guess I'll head home if you're sure you don't want any help," Scott said.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, there's not much left to do. I'll see you tomorrow."

Stiles glanced around the kitchen, feeling absolutely no motivation at all to clean up the mess they'd left. Instead he joined everyone in the living room. Isaac had his teddy bear in his hand and he was offering it to Erica. She smiled and took it. She looked so tired, like she was ready to collapse.

"I need some air," she said feebly.

"I'll sit outside with you," Stiles offered.

She didn't say no, so he followed her out to sit on the porch and wait for her parents. Isaac had insisted that she keep the teddy bear with her and she flipped it over in her hands, examining the worn out fur before. "I guess I kind of ruined our project," she said.

"No, not at all," Stiles replied quickly.

Erica sighed. "Your little brother is really sweet."

Stiles smiled. "Yeah, he's great."

She hesitated and then said, "I can see where he gets it."

It took Stiles a moment to register that a girl was actually complimenting him and of course by the time it registered, her mom's car had pulled up to the curb. She stood and he rushed to follow her. "Hey, do you think maybe I could call you or something?" he asked lamely. Was that even a thing people asked? He had no clue.

"Sure," she said.

Stiles stood there smiling like an idiot until the car was out of sight. He turned around and walked back up to the front door, bending to pick up Isaac's teddy bear along the way. He almost didn't want to go inside. He just wanted to sit out there all night and think about the way Erica's hair looked like gold in the moonlight.

When Stiles finally went inside, he saw that his dad had already started cleaning up. "Stiles, do you mind getting Isaac to bed?" John asked.

Stiles bent down and picked Isaac up. He lifted the small boy in the air and made plane noises as he zoomed them to Isaac's bedroom. Isaac insisted on dressing himself for bed and for the most part he did a good job, aside from trying to put his shirt on backwards. Stiles helped him brush his teeth and was cajoled into being an airplane one last time.

"Uh-oh, crash landing!" Stiles cried as he dropped Isaac onto the mattress.

Isaac's laughter turned into a yawn and he crawled under the covers. He was sleepily rubbing his eyes, but still found time to be nosy. "I like Erica. She's nice. Do you like her?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Do you wanna kiss her?"

Stiles laughed. "What would I wanna do that for?" he teased.

"Boys kiss girls," Isaac said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Stiles turned on Isaac's nightlight and pondered for a while. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

"Hey, Stiles?"

"What?"

Isaac pulled his covers up over his head. "What if a boy kissed a boy?"

Stiles smiled, amused and confused. "Well, that happens too."

"My dad said that's bad. He said its faggots."

Stiles winced at the word. "That's not a very nice thing to say."

"Why'd he say it for then?" Isaac peeked out from under the covers.

"Some people are mean," Stiles said. "It's not wrong for a boy to kiss a boy."

"Promise?"

Stiles smiled and kissed the top of Isaac's head. "I promise."

Stiles left the room, turning off the light. He'd put two and two together and he figured that Isaac had developed a crush on Scott, but that was an issue for another day. He had a late night ahead of him finishing the rest of the group project.

::::::::::::

In a turn of events, it wasn't Isaac that had a nightmare that night. John woke up in a cold sweat. He couldn't recall the details exactly, but he remembered the paralyzing fear of not being able to find his sons. It shook him up pretty badly and he wasn't ashamed of the fact that he checked on Stiles and Isaac before he went back to sleep.

:::::::::::::

The next morning in the Stilinski house was particularly hectic. The sheriff was working a day shift so not only did he have to get Stiles up and ready for school, he also had to get Isaac ready to go to the babysitter's. Neither of his boys were being cooperative, but they finally got out the door. So what if Isaac's hair was a wild cloud of curls and he only had one shoe on? At least they were on time.

"Don't forget to give this back to Scott," John said, handing the inhaler to Stiles. Scott was always leaving those things at the house by accident and John knew how expensive they could be.

John breathed a sigh of relief when he dropped Stiles off in front of the school. That was one less thing to worry about. Next, he dropped Isaac off at the babysitter's house. It was usually hit-or-miss. Some days Isaac went without a fuss, other days he didn't want to be left at Ms. Patterson's house and nothing would convince him. Luckily, Isaac was too sleepy to argue and he went straight into the living room and fell asleep on the couch.

When he returned to his patrol car, John sighed. Scott's inhaler was still sitting in the front seat. John put it in his pocket and after handing out a few tickets for traffic violations, he stopped and grabbed coffee for two and drove to the hospital. Luckily, Melissa wasn't busy.

"Hey, John. I'm surprised to see you. What's up?"

John handed her the Styrofoam cup and then reached into his pocket. "Scott left this at the house again."

Melissa sighed and smiled. She took the inhaler and put it in her pocket. "Kids, right?"

John nodded. "Yeah, they do know how to make ya crazy."

"It'd be nice to have a day off. Or even just an evening."

John wasn't really sure what made him think of it, but before he could come up with an excuse not to, he spoke. "I think on Friday we should have the boys babysit and we should go out to dinner and a movie, just the two of us." Suddenly, he was nervous. He felt like he was in high school again.

Just when John had convinced himself he'd made things permanently weird between them, Melissa responded. "That sounds great, John. I haven't done that sort of thing in a long time."

John smiled. "I haven't either. It'll be nice to have a night out without the kids to worry about."

There was a beep from behind the nurses' station and Melissa leaned over to check which room was calling. "I guess I'll see you Friday then," Melissa said before returning to work.

John's panic renewed. So she'd said yes. Was this a date? He replayed the conversation. It wasn't exactly clear, but he really hoped it was.


	5. Chapter 5

John started flipping the pancakes on to plates. He wasn't so sure about these. They were made out of some organic whole grain stuff that Stiles had insisted was good for them. Stiles had a sixth sense for breakfast and he snatched his plate away and went to the table to add peanut butter. John, on the other hand, was stuck with some sorry excuse for butter substitute and low calorie syrup. It was a blasphemy, but he knew it made Stiles happy.

"Stiles, I'm going to need you and Scott to baby-sit Isaac tonight," John said, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah, we can do that," Stiles said. "I thought you didn't have work though."

John was suddenly very focused on the task of making a smiley face out of bananas on Isaac's pancake. "Well…Ms. McCall and I thought it would be nice to go to dinner and a movie."

Stiles flailed in his seat and dropped his fork. "You're taking Scott's mom out on a date?!"

John could feel the tops of his ears getting hot with embarrassment. "It's not a big deal, Stiles. It's hardly a date. It's just two adults who want to go to a nice restaurant and see a movie without kids running around."

"Where are you taking her to dinner?" Stiles asked. He was in full on interrogation mode now.

Isaac shuffled in to the kitchen. He'd insisted he could dress himself and it was very obvious that he had because his shirt was on inside out and backwards. John put Isaac's plate on the table and lifted the child up onto his stack of books. John was hoping that Stiles would drop it, but his oldest son was much too determined.

"Dad, tell me you have a plan," Stiles said. "You have to make this a good date because if it ends up being a bad date then things will just be totally awkward for the rest of our lives." By the end of the sentence, Stiles was talking so fast his words started to run together and he was gesturing wildly.

Isaac stared at Stiles with sleepy confusion on his face. He shrugged and started plucking the slices of banana off of his pancake with his fingers.

"Isaac, use your fork," John said, but he couldn't help but smile. Isaac looked at the table and seemed vaguely surprised that the fork was there.

"Dad, are you listening?" Stiles said.

"Yes, I'm listening, Stiles," John replied. "Don't worry about it. It's really nothing to make a big deal over."

::::::::::

John finished knotting his tie and smoothed it down before looking at his reflection in the mirror. "Nope, definitely not," he muttered to himself. He loosened the tie and threw it on to the dresser. He nodded to his reflection. He hardly ever dressed up and he was just grateful that his black sport coat still fit, but he wondered if maybe it was too much. He hadn't really had a chance to talk to Melissa beyond asking her if Italian food was alright and if she had anything against Johnny Depp. What if he'd overdressed?

He was halfway through combing his hair when he realized he'd already done that. Then why was he in the bathroom? He figured it was because he needed to brush his teeth, but then he remembered he'd already done that too?

John had to laugh at himself. He was such a mess and it made no sense. This was Melissa. He'd known her for years. She'd seen him at some of his absolute lowest points. In all honesty, she was his best friend. There was no reason to be nervous.

::::::::::

Melissa hadn't really let herself overthink things up to this point, which was a miracle, but of course it was now right as she was about to finish getting ready that the full on freak out happened and it was all because she couldn't decide which pair of earrings to wear. She was already dressed in a nice skirt and a pretty blouse and her hair had mostly cooperated with the curling iron. Her make-up was done, a little bit more than her normal concealer-mascara-lip gloss work combo, but not too much. Or at least, she thought it wasn't too much.

What if John showed up in a T-shirt and jeans? What if this wasn't what she thought it was?

John was an amazing man. He was such a good father and he was reliable in a way no other man in her life had ever been. He was the one person she could always count on, no matter what. That wasn't something that would just change over one date.

::::::::::

"How are you not freaking out about this?" Stiles asked.

Scott laughed at his friend, who was pressing his face against the window's glass, watching as their parents drove away. "I dunno," Scott replied. "I think they deserve to be happy."

"Well, of course they do, but…" Stiles couldn't think of a logical argument. He sighed and shoved Scott's feet off of the couch so he could plop down in an exhausted heap. He wasn't really physically tired, but he'd spent all day thinking of every disastrous scenario that could result from his dad dating his best friend's mom.

Isaac was blissfully oblivious to all of it. He was on the floor, laying on his stomach and crashing toy cars into the coffee table. Stiles tilted his head as he watched Isaac. Stiles knew for a fact that the boy wasn't always as oblivious as he seemed. He wondered how Isaac felt about the situation and that got him wondering about what Isaac's life had been like before. He wondered what Isaac's parents had been like together. Had they been loving toward one another or were they as horrible to each other as they'd been to Isaac?

"What're you doing down there, buddy?" Stiles asked, even though it was obvious.

"I'm making crashes," Isaac said with a bored sigh. "I want pizza."

"What kind?" Stiles asked.

"Cheese and pepperonis," Isaac answered. He stood up and got a running start to jump on the couch right between Scott and Stiles. "And I want ice cream and soda too."

Stiles rolled his eyes. He knew Isaac shouldn't have so many unhealthy things in one night. He'd been reading up about the correlation between processed foods and childhood cancers, like how a kid who had 12 hot dogs a month was 9 times more likely to get leukemia. Stiles had increased his efforts on the health food campaign in the house and he didn't want to undo it all. But Isaac was smiling and his eyes were wide and his curly hair was a mess and Stiles was a pushover.

Exactly thirty minutes later, their pizza arrived and the three of them devoured it in no time. Afterward, they made ice cream sundaes out of the things they managed to scavenge from the kitchen and it turned out Isaac was a culinary genius because his vanilla ice cream with crumbled up potato chips on top was actually one of the best things Stiles had ever tasted. The three of them took their ice cream to the living room and Scott dug all the way to the back of the DVD cabinet to find Monsters Inc.

Halfway through the movie they were all sleepy eyed just because of how comfortable they were. The bowls had been piled on the coffee table and all the pillows and blankets they could find were on the couch with them. Stiles looked over at Scott and Isaac and smiled at the fact that Scott was just as enthralled with the movie as the four-year-old.

Stiles was starting to think that maybe he'd misjudged the situation before. As much as Stiles loved his mom and missed her, his dad didn't deserve to spend the rest of his life alone. Really, this was the best situation he could hope for. Ms. McCall had become like a second mom to him and well Scott was already practically his brother. He started drifting off to sleep and he let himself dream about all of them together as a family.

::::::::::

John hadn't been on a first date in…what was it, twenty years now? He was anxious, but Melissa looked absolutely beautiful and he was so thankful he'd managed to ask her out. He pulled out her chair for her at the restaurant and couldn't help but lean in to smell her perfume as she sat down.

The restaurant was illuminated by candlelight and in the soft glow Melissa's smile took John's breath away. She laughed and spread her napkin over her lap. "Sorry, I'm trying not to be awkward," she said.

John smiled back at her. "That makes two of us. I'm glad we did this though."

"I am too," Melissa said sincerely.

John took a deep breath, swallowed down his nervousness, and said, "Melissa, you look lovely tonight."

Her cheeks turned pink at the compliment, but he could tell she was happy. "Thank you. It's not often I have a reason to look nice."

"You always look nice," John replied. He was worried he might be laying it on thick, but it was the truth so he had no regrets about saying it.

Melissa blushed even more and took a sip of her wine as soon as the waiter set it down in front of her. "Thanks, John. You're too kind. I'm so glad you asked me out tonight. It's been so long since I've been taken out on a date."

John looked at her with a satisfied smile as he moved a breadstick from the basket on to the tiny plate in front of him. She'd just confirmed that it was indeed a date and John had to have something to distract him from the urge to pump his fist in the air to celebrate. "I'd definitely love if we could do this again," he said. "It'd be nice if we could spend more time together without the kids. It's nice to be able to just focus on you."

"I'd like that," Melissa said. "The kids are fun, but they're a handful sometimes." She laughed to herself. "I think Scott was really excited to hear that we were going out."

John grinned. "Scott's a great kid. I'm glad I have his approval."

"Of course you do," she said. "You've been a great role model for him. I've always been really glad that he spends so much time around you and Stiles."

"We're always glad to have him over. Plus, he's really good with Isaac."

Melissa beamed with pride. "That's great to hear. How is Isaac doing, by the way? He seems so happy."

John nodded and smiled fondly as he answered, "Isaac is great. He still has his difficulties sometimes, but he's come really far."

Their food arrived and they spent the rest of their meal sharing stories about work, parenthood, and life. They talked about the places they wanted to travel to one day and the crazy things they'd done in college. That led to them laughing at the ridiculous fashion trends and embarrassing confessions about parachute pants and leg warmers.

After dinner, they drove to the movie theater and walked to their seats arm in arm. Somewhere between the title screen and the ending credits, they ended up holding hands. They both had permanent smiles on their faces when they arrived at the McCall house. All three boys were asleep on the couch. Stiles stirred as soon as the lights turned on, but Isaac was out and John had to carry him out to the car.

The boys waited in the car while John walked Melissa back inside her house. Under the porch light, they hugged and neither of them wanted to be the first to pull away. After a while, John reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I had a good time tonight," he said.

"I did too," Melissa replied softly. "Let's do this again next week."

John smiled. "It's a date."


End file.
